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It’s time to learn something

With Christmas barely out the door, we’ve hardly had time to do anything but lounge around in our brand-new jammies, munch on leftover turkey and watch the needles fall from the tree.
Barbara Gunn
Barbara Gunn

With Christmas barely out the door, we’ve hardly had time to do anything but lounge around in our brand-new jammies, munch on leftover turkey and watch the needles fall from the tree.

Still, I reminded the family, another big day’s coming; time to take the sleepwear off and get our heads around it.

I’m talking 2018.

“It’s the first day of the new year on Monday,” I reminded them. “What are we going to do?”

They looked at me, puzzled.

“Do?” asked a son. “You mean, besides sleep until four?”

No, I said. I was talking resolutions — in a manner of speaking.

“I’m not talking about eating less chocolate or drinking less coffee. I’m not talking about doing more exercise or saving more money.”

They continued to look at me blankly.

“I think we should all resolve to learn something new,” I said.

I looked at the husband.

“Go,” I said.

“Go where?” he wondered.

“Tell us what you’re going to learn,” I said. “You go first.”

The husband scratched his chin.

“Well,” he said. “Let’s see. I suppose I could learn how an automobile’s motor works.”

“You going to take on the maintenance of the car?” asked a son.

“Heavens no,” said the husband.

“Then that’s a stupid idea,” said the son.

I interjected.

“I wasn’t really thinking along the lines of car repair,” I said. “I was thinking more about things that will make us better, more enlightened people.”

Didn’t anyone want to, oh, learn a new language? Learn to write poetry? Learn the art of carpentry?

No one immediately jumped in.

“I know,” said the husband after a few minutes. “I’d like to learn what bitcoin is. Everyone’s talking about bitcoin, and I have no idea what they’re talking about.”

The sons nodded.

“Good idea,” said the oldest. “When you find out, will you fill me in?”

And so it went. No one vowed to take up memoir-writing, quilt-making, fly fishing or tai chi. There was, however, great enthusiasm at the prospect of learning how to make pale ale, teriyaki barbecue sauce and a play list of really good jazz.

The husband turned and looked at me.

“Well?” he said. “What about you?”

I pondered. Nothing came instantly to mind.

I told him I’d get back to him. Not sure I’d be better where quilting’s concerned. But I’d surely be cozy and warm.